


Midnight Kiss

by curlsgetdemgurls



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-28 14:50:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17185043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlsgetdemgurls/pseuds/curlsgetdemgurls
Summary: Jamie and Claire meet on New Year's Eve. Will they kiss at midnight? Or will they part before the clock strikes 12?





	1. Glitter On The Floor

**_December 31st, 2018_ **

**_9:38pm_ **

“Lady Jane!” 

“Coming!” Claire slipped her heels on, careful not to trip over her pile of outfit choices. She hadn’t had a night out in months and tonight was New Year’s Eve, the perfect excuse to drink a little too much. 

Taking one last glance in the mirror, she deemed her unruly curls good enough and swabbed at her lipstick. 

“LJ, are you comin’ or not?” Her best friend, Joe called from the door. 

She smiled to herself and turned out her bedroom light. They were headed downtown somewhere in Edinburgh; a fancy hotel that Joe had heard of a good party. 

“I’m ready,” Claire grinned, reaching for her favorite red coat in the hall closet. “You take forever, Joe. Come on, we’re going to be late!” 

Joe laughed and ushered her out the door, “Claire Beauchamp would be late to a New Year’s Eve party.” 

“I couldn’t decide what to wear,” she argued. “I didn’t want to look frumpy or plain.” 

“LJ, you couldn’t look plain if you tried,” he winked at her. Joe was a good looking man, but they’d been friends for eight years — ever since they showed up early to their first day of medical school. Joe was also American, the only American in their intern class, just as she was the only Englishwoman. He was more like her brother, and he’d been the one that convinced her to come out with him tonight instead of spending the night in her PJ’s watching old Christmas movies. 

“Thank you, Joe,” Claire smiled. 

It was a ten minute UBER ride to the hotel and as Claire checked the time, she realized that her phone battery was on 23%. “Oh Jesus H. Christ… I forgot to plug my phone in.” 

“Who do you need to call?” Joe looked over at her, “You’ll be with me the whole night, you can use my phone if you really need to make a late night call.” 

“I’ve got no one to call anyways,” she sighed. “It’s fine, I don’t need it. It’s not like I plan to get anyones number this evening.” 

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short, LJ,” Joe grinned at her. “You could meet a handsome Scot and have your life changed forever.” 

Rolling her eyes, she shoved her phone back in her small purse. “I highly doubt that. I’ve been living in Edinburgh for nearly eight years and besides Frank, no one has seemed interested.” 

“Frank was a dick,” Joe said with no subtlety. 

Her jaw dropped and Claire couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled in her chest. “Well, you’re not wrong.” 

“I’m never wrong,” Joe smirked. “You just wait and see, I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.” 

“If you say so,” she smiled.

When they arrived at the hotel, they left their coats at the front door where the attendant told them to go to the top floor. 

“This place is so swanky,” Claire said as she looked around at the elevator decked with mirrors. 

“I don’t just go to any party, Lady J,” Joe grinned and as the door opened, Claire’s eyes widened. The party was in full swing and it was decorated like the roaring 20’s — looking something like _The Great Gatsby_.

“C’mon old sport, let’s get some drinks,” Joe smiled at her amazed expression and tugged on her hand, guiding her through the crowd of people. The music was fitting as well, swing. The dance floor was covered with couples doing the Charleston and Claire was itching to try it. 

“Two martinis,” Joe said to the bartender and then turned to Claire. “So, what do you think?”

She smiled, her eyes still grazing over the room, with golden lights cascading over the ceiling. “It’s wonderful, Joe. Thank you for bringing me.” 

“Anytime, LJ, anytime.” 

Claire took her drink from the bartender, sipping slowly. As much as she wanted to dance, she knew she would need a couple more drinks before anyone ever saw her out on that dance floor. 

Twenty minutes later, Joe dragged her out — supplied with enough alcohol or not, he was making her dance. 

“Let loose, Beauchamp! Throw your hands in the air,” he laughed and started moving his body to the music. 

She was stiff at first, feeling self conscious, but as the music invaded her senses and the alcohol moved through her bloodstream, she lost all her inhibitions. Her attempt at the Charleston was poor, but she laughed, giving it her best shot. Claire hadn’t had this much fun in ages and thought she could dance all night. 

A few songs later, the band said they were going on a break and would come back thirty minutes before midnight. Claire and Joe came off the dance floor, back to the bar with heaving chests and sweating brows. 

“I didn’t realize dancing like that would be so intense!” Claire laughed, feeling exuberant. 

“I bet your feet are killin’ you,” Joe observed, looking down at her shoes. “I’m glad I’m a man.” 

“I quite like them,” she glanced at her feet, not the slightest bit bothered by them. 

“They’re cute, I’ll give you that,” Joe smiled and then nudged her side, leaning in close. “Don’t look too obvious, but there’s a tall ginger man staring at you by the end of the bar.”

Claire turned her head to the right and spotted him. He was tall. Taller than most of the other people around him and his hair was in fact very ginger and curly, just like hers. 

“I told you not to look too obvious, LJ,” Joe laughed. 

“Well, I’m not going to crane my neck. Besides, if he’s looking then he should just come over and say something,” Claire smirked and took a sip of her freshly poured drink. 

“Oh shit,” Joe mumbled. “He’s coming over, you got your wish.” 

“What?” Claire’s heart started to race as she looked back over to where the tall man had been but he’d disappeared. When she turned to ask Joe where the man had gone, he’d disappeared as well. “Joe!” She did a 180 in search of her friend, but instead bumped into someone else. 

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Claire covered her mouth, looking at where her martini had spilled over the man’s shirt. When she looked up, she realized it was the tall red headed man from the end of the bar. 

“Och, ’tis alright. At least it’s clear,” he chuckled. His Highland lilt was something to behold and while Claire had lived in Scotland for the last eight years, she never got tired of hearing that accent. 

“I’m so sorry, I cannot believe I’ve spilt my drink on a stranger!” Claire laughed nervously and then reached for a napkin, dapping at his shirt. His chest was firm and his skin was warm. The man grabbed her wrist and she met his eyes again, this time nothing how perfectly blue they were. 

“Dinna fash, lass. It’ll dry on it’s own,” his lips curved on one side. 

Gulping, Claire placed the dirty napkin on the top of the bar. “Were you staring at me earlier?” 

The man looked a little surprised to be called out, but then smiled, nodding his head at her question. “Aye, I couldn’t take my eyes of yer wee hair.”

“My hair?” Claire reached up to touch her curls and for the first time since she arrived, realized that her curls had fallen out of her bun and were strewn around her face. “Oh, because of how bad it looks?”

The man laughed again, a deep sound from his chest. “Nah, ’tis like a nest.” Claire’s eyes widened and his own bugged out, “Oh, no! I didn’t mean it looked like something animals lived in, just that it was big and inviting — Ifrinn!” 

Claire twirled a curl around her finger, a small smile playing on her lips. “You think my hair is inviting?”

“What I mean to say is…” He smiled down at her and reached up to touch a curl on top of her head and she froze in place. “You’ve verra lovely hair, Sassenach.” 

“Sassenach…” she repeated. “You’re full of compliments tonight aren’t you?” 

“Och, please dinna take offense,” the man held up his hand. “I only was regardin’ ye bein’ English, nothing negative.” 

“It’s alright,” Claire smiled. “I quite like it actually.” Holding her hand out, Claire felt something electric in the air between them. “I’m Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, it’s nice to meet you.” 

His hand slid into hers and there was a spark that shot up her arm and straight to her heart. “James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser,” he grinned and then brought her hand to his lips, kissing the back softly. 

“Och, ye’ve a bit of glitter in yer hair,” he released her hand and then she felt his fingers on her scalp as he removed some glitter, letting it fall to the floor. 

“Are you here with anyone?” Claire asked. 

“Aye, my sister Jenny and her husband. And my friend John, but they’re fine on their own for a bit,” he grinned down at her. 

Claire glanced around the room quickly for Joe, but still didn’t see him. Jamie caught her looking and she hoped he didn’t think she was looking for a way out of their conversation. 

“Are ye here wi’ anyone?”

She nodded, “My friend Joe. And he conveniently disappeared whenever you showed up.” 

Jamie’s lips did that lopsided curve thing again and Claire’s stomach flipped. He was charming for sure and all she wanted to do was kiss his lips to see what they would taste like. As she looked into his eyes again, she had the vague thought that maybe he would be her midnight kiss. 

“Would ye like to take a walk, Claire?” 

_What did she have to lose?_

“Sure,” she smiled and slipped her hand through his proffered arm and followed as he lead them back through the crowd of people and out to the quieter hallway. 

“Where are we going?” She asked as he hit the elevator button. 

He flashed his brows, grinning. “’Tis a surprise, Sassenach.” 


	2. I Want Your Midnights

**_December 31st, 2018_ **

**_10:45pm_ **

When they got in the elevator, Jamie pressed the top button.

“I thought we were already on the top floor?” Claire asked, wondering what else could be above them. 

“We are on the top floor, Sassenach,” Jamie looked down at her as he leaned back against the elevator wall. “But there’s a roof.” 

“It’s bloody freezing and I don’t have my coat!” Claire wrapped her arms around herself in anticipation of the cold. 

“’Tis a different kind of roof,” he laughed, enjoying watching her shiver. “Ye dinna need yer wee coat.” 

“What?” Claire asked but before he could reply, the doors opened, revealing why she didn’t need her coat after all. 

They were on the roof, but it wasn’t open to the cold night air. Instead, large panes of glass cubed them in and strung from the top were hundreds of twinkling lights, imitating the stars above them. 

“Wow,” was all Claire could muster as she followed Jamie out into the middle of the roof. 

“It used to be a greenhouse, but then new owners bought the place and instead of tearin’ it down, they kept it. ’Tis just a outdoor party space now, but good for the winter,” Jamie explained. 

“Why do you know so much about this?” Claire smiled and as she took a seat next to Jamie on the couch in the corner, she noticed the music from inside was also being played out here. 

“My uncle Dougal owns the hotel,” he said casually as if everyone’s uncles just owned hotels. 

Claire nodded, “Ah, yes. I see.” 

Jamie cocked his head, his eyebrow twitching. “What do ye see, Sassenach?”

She settled back against the couch, “Oh nothing. It’s just…” 

“Aye?” Jamie grinned, leaning forward slightly. 

Claire felt foolish for even thinking it, “It’s just, well I suppose you must bring a lot of girls up here. You know, show them the roof, name drop that your uncle is the owner. I thought — well, never mind.” 

“I’ve never brought anyone up here, Claire,” Jamie said and she looked up at him. “I’ve never even told anyone that my uncle owns the place,” his cheeks turned red. “Maybe I was tryin’ to impress ye.” 

Her stomach filled with butterflies and her cheeks turned bright red. “Oh,” she said softly, trying to hide her obvious smile. 

“Oh,” Jamie repeated. He stood up then, reaching for her hand. “Would ye care to dance, Sassenach?”

“Yes,” She smiled and Claire slid her hand into his and he pulled her up with a little too much strength, making her bump against his chest. “Sorry,” she muttered, her hand resting against his heart. 

“‘Pulled ye too hard,” he laughed and then took a few steps backwards until they were clear of the other furniture. The music wasn’t very loud, but they both didn’t seem to mind as Jamie slid his hand along her waist, bringing her closer. 

The blue in his eyes sparkled from the lights overhead and Claire wanted to drown in them. She’d never felt so connected to a near stranger in all her life. There was a pull between them, something almost magnetic and as he spun them around slowly, she laid her head against his chest. 

Jamie’s hand slid along her back, his other hand gripping hers out to the side. The song changed, one of his favorites and he softly sang along — off pitch, but hoped Claire didn’t mind. 

_“I’ll be seeing you, in all the old familiar places…”_ he heard her sigh and smiled to himself, continuing to sing. _“That this heart of mine embraces, all day and through.”_ Jamie felt a humming against his chest that vibrated through his body and realized she was singing along. 

He gripped her waist tighter, never wanting to let her go. They were barely spinning now; simply holding onto each other in the middle of the glass room on top of a hotel in Edinburgh. 

Claire lifted her head as the song came to an end and looked in his eyes as they both sang, _“I’ll find you in the morning sun, and when the night is new. I’ll be looking at the moon, but I’ll be seeing you.”_

“Thank ye for the lovely dance, Sassenach,” Jamie pulled her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles and she bowed her head. 

“I had a lovely dancing partner,” she smiled. 

Jamie didn’t want to let go of her waist, but he also didn’t want to appear too forward so he reluctantly released her and lead them back over to the couch. 

“So, Sassenach,” Jamie said as he reached for a blanket on the back of the couch, bringing it over both of their legs. “Yer obviously an English lass. What brings ye to my land?”

“I’m a Doctor,” she pulled the blanket to cover her feet and tried to subtly scoot closer to him. “I left England when I was eighteen and moved here for medical school. Been here ever since.” 

“Do ye like it?” He asked and laid his hand nonchalantly on his leg over the blanket near hers. 

“I do, it’s a wonderful place to live. I miss home sometimes, but it hasn’t been the same since my parents died,” Claire said and then shook her head slightly, wondering why she had just divulged something she rarely talked about to him. 

His fingers inched towards hers, tracing her forefinger, “I’m sorry, Claire. I ken what it is to feel the loss of family. ’Twas not my parents,” he frowned, “They’re alive, but ’twas my brother, Willie… he died in a wreck a few years ago.” 

Claire moved her finger over his, lightly touching it, “I’m sorry, Jamie.” They both smiled gently, not saying anything — feeling connected in their loss. 

“Have you always lived in Edinburgh?” She said a moment later and moved her fingers into the palm of his hand, their eyes never breaking contact. 

“Nah, I live about an hour away. It’s called Lallybroch, verra quaint,” his face softened. “I went to Edinburgh University, however and that’s where I teach now — languages,” he raised his brows. 

“Oh and what languages do you speak?”

He smiled smugly, “Well, English of course. Then there’s the Ghaidhlig, French, Spanish and a wee bit of Italian.” 

“Damn,” Claire said, clearly impressed. “I only speak English and some very basic French. I’d love to learn another language.” 

He squeezed her hand lightly, “Would ye like to learn something in Gaelic?”

“Yes, please! I’m sure I’ll butcher the pronunciation though,” Claire laughed. 

“Och, ye’ll be fine. I’ll give ye somethin’ easy to start out wi,” Jamie cleared his throat. “Say ‘ _mo nighean donn_ ’.” 

“ _Mo nighean donn_ ,” Claire repeated and Jamie nodded, satisfied with what he’d heard. 

“Yer a natural!” He laughed. “But that was a verra easy one, now try ‘ _Tha gaol agam ort’_.” 

She repeated it slowly, sounding out the way he had said it. “Say it again, please,” she smiled. 

_“Tha gaol agam ort_ ,” Jamie repeated. 

“Tha gaol agam ort,” Claire said and smiled. “There! Gaelic isn’t so hard after all.” 

“Och, try sayin’ this if ye ken yer so good, Sassenach,” he smiled, leaning forward closer to her. _“Tha mi ’n dùil sgàin mo chridhe._ ” 

“Wot?” Claire just looked at him. “I’ll need you to say that at least five more times,” she laughed and moved both their hands in her lap. “What did you have my say anyways?”

Jamie blushed, looking down at their hands. “Och, just sayings. ’Tis mostly gibberish.” A moment later, his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

“Is everything all right?” Claire asked. 

“Aye,” Jamie grinned. “Tis just my friend John wonderin’ where I went. I didna realize the time, ’tis almost midnight!” 

“Do you want to go back to the party?” 

“Aye, I hear there will be some confetti at midnight,” he tried to wink, making Claire laugh as he looked more like an owl. “And I could do wi’ a wee dram.” 

He stood from the couch, taking her hand and this time slowly pulling her up. Jamie slid his arm around her waist as they walked back into the elevator and he pressed the button to thefloor under them. As the minutes ticked by, Jamie wondered if Claire Beauchamp would be his midnight kiss. 


	3. Hold On To The Memories

**_December 31st, 2018_ **

**_11:46pm_ **

“What’s yer drink?” Jamie asked, leaning against the bar. They had returned to the party a little before midnight and things certainly weren’t dying down any time soon. 

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” she smiled. Jamie ordered two whisky’s and turned back to her when the drink was ready and she took it gladly. 

“Say,” he took a sip. “When yer finished wi’ the wee dram, would ye like to dance? Again?” 

“Yes, I would love to,” Claire smiled and then tilted her drink back, finishing the rest in one gulp. She sighed content as the liquid burned down her throat and looked up at Jamie who was smirking. “Well…” 

“Ye are somethin’ else, Beauchamp.” Jamie followed her lead, finishing his drink in one gulp and then grabbed her hand, pulling her out onto the dance floor. It was ten minutes until midnight and the slow songs were over. 

Holding her hand high in the air, Jamie spun her around and her dress fanned out. She laughed freely and then fell into his arms as he pulled her back into a dip, her leg kicking out. Jamie was quite the dancer. Earlier on the roof, they had simply held onto each other, but now they were spinning and jumping around, enjoying the night and forgetting everything else. 

They continued to dance, eyes twinkling and hands never leaving the other. After another song, someone came on stage and announced it was officially two minutes until midnight. 

“Grab yer special someone and get ready for that midnight kiss!” The man in a top hat said and Jamie and Claire both looked at each other. 

“What do ye say, Sassenach?” He quirked his brow. “Will ye be my midnight kiss?”

Claire stepped closer to him and slid her arms around his neck, “Of course I will.” 

Everyone turned then to look at the giant clock on the wall and began to count down from sixty. 

Jamie gripped her waist. 

_Fifty-nine… fifty-eight… fifty-seven…_

Claire glanced at Jamie who’s eyes were watching the minute hand move, memorizing his face; the way his blue eyes crinkled on the sides when he smiled and the way his auburn hair shined in the light. 

_Forty-three… forty-two… forty-one…_

“Jamie?” 

He turned his head to look down at her, giving her side a firm squeeze. “Aye, Sassenach?”

_Thirty-eight… thirty-seven… thirty-six…_

“I’m glad I met you tonight,” she smiled. 

Jamie’s eyes crinkled and he pulled her closer, embracing her and then pulled back to look at her. “So am I, Claire. Ye’ve made this night… magical.” 

_Twenty-two… twenty-one… twenty…_

“You better make this a good kiss!” Claire had to shout a bit as everyone around them got louder. “Since you’re the only one I’ve got!” 

Jamie kissed her cheek then and heat rose to the surface of her face. She loved the way his scruff felt against her skin. “Oh I plan on it.” 

_Eleven… ten… nine…_

Claire stood on her toes, tugging on the curls at the back of his neck as her heart started to race. 

_Six… five… four…_

Jamie cupped her cheek and bent his head down, smiling as he watched her eyes close. 

_Three… two… one… Happy New Year!_

As the band started to play _Auld Lang Syne_ and confetti fell from the ceiling just as Jamie promised, he sealed their lips. 

Claire’s hand was gripping his jacket and she slipped her tongue out, parting his lips and felt him chuckle. He broke the kiss momentarily, opening his eyes to look at her, breathless and then kissed her again. 

Cupping her cheeks, Jamie never wanted to stop kissing her, tasting her on his lips. 

Claire was the first to break the kiss and opened her eyes slowly as if in a daze. 

“Did ye like it?” Jamie grinned. 

She simply nodded, having lost her words. 

“Ye have confetti in yer lovely hair,” Jamie laughed and picked a few pieces out of her mess of curls. No doubt she would be finding confetti in her hair tomorrow morning. 

“Follow me,” Claire said and tugged on his hand, leading him through the crowd and then she stopped near the door, just out of range from all the noise. 

“I feel like when I wake up, all of this will be a dream,” she said quietly and then looked up at him. 

“Me too, Sassenach.” He smiled, smoothing her hair back from her face. “But it doesn’t have to end here. I’m no even goin’ to pretend that I dinna want yer number verra badly,” Jamie laughed. 

Claire smiled and reached for her phone in her small purse, but when she pressed the home button, it was dead. “Do you have your phone on you? Mine’s dead, I’m afraid.” 

He smiled and slid his hands in both his pants pockets and then his jacket but when he pulled it out he realized his had died as well. 

“I don’t suppose you’re really good at remembering numbers?” Claire grinned. 

“I’m good wi’ languages, no so much numbers and such,” Jamie said. 

Claire opened her mouth to say something and then shut it. 

“What is it, Sassenach?” Jamie reached for her hand. 

“It’s just… we can’t exchange numbers and now that I’m thinking about all of this, I just…” she trailed off, not meeting his eye.

“Tell me what yer thinkin’, Sassenach,” He said gently, “Please?”

“Let’s make a promise to meet back here in one year,” Claire said looking up at him. “Same place, New Year’s Eve.” 

“But why a year?” He asked a bit confused. 

Claire peered down at their hands in between them; her smaller ones in his large ones, fingers softly stroking hers. “My life… well, my life has been complicated this past year and I don’t think I’m ready for—“

“For this,” Jamie waved his other hand back and forth from him to her. “Aye, I can maybe understand.” He smirked at her and then lifted his hand under her chin, “Maybe.” 

“We wait a year and we’ll meet again,” Claire said. “I promise to have my life together by then,” she laughed lightly. “Let’s remember tonight as it was. Perfect.” 

“Perfect,” Jamie repeated. “I dinna like this wee plan of yers, but I understand. ’Tis odd,” he smirked. “But if ye need a year, Sassenach. I can give ye a year.” 

She stood on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips against his one last time until they would meet again. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her close and he deepened the kiss. Claire knew it was probably foolish and old fashioned — her plan, considering she could have found a napkin and a pen and given him her number.

But it was the truth. Her life had been complicated ever since her parents died just last March and she had suffered not only their loss, but a horrible break-up with her ex, Frank. What Claire needed was time and she knew that with Jamie there, she wouldn’t be able to properly heal. As his lips pressed against hers, she thought maybe he could be the key in mending her heart, but first she needed to try on her own. 

They finally broke apart, resting their foreheads against each other. 

“One year,” she whispered. 

“I will see ye, again, Claire,” Jamie ran his thumb across her cheek to catch a fallen tear. “You can count on that.” 

It took everything in her to release his hand and walk away. Just before she rounded the corner to head for the elevator, Claire took one last look back at him and smiled. Jamie smiled, giving her a wave and then she was gone. 

++++++

**_One Year Later_ **

She had been getting ready for the past three hours. Her hair and makeup had been finished nearly two hours ago, but deciding on an outfit was a bit more complicated. 

Claire needed to find the perfect dress for tonight. It was New Year’s Eve. This meant that she would see _him_ again. 

James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser. 

Exactly a year ago, Claire had literally bumped into him at a New Year’s Eve party and throughout the course of the night, she had fallen for him. At the end of the night, they’d made a promise to meet again at the same place. Over the past year, not a day went by when she didn’t think about Jamie. 

Realistically, she knew she would be able to get his number by looking him up or by going to the hotel where they had met, considering his uncle owned the hotel. But since that night, Claire had made leaps and bounds in her life. No longer did she feel tears prick her eyes at the mention of her parents. And she had pieced back her heart after realizing that Frank never truly loved her nor she him. 

Claire may have only known Jamie Fraser for one night, but she knew that she loved him and she had been waiting a year to say it. 

_She only hoped he would show up._

“Lady J!” Joe called and this time she ran out quickly to meet him at the door. 

“I’m ready,” she smiled and did a little twirl. Claire settled on a floor length red dress and had left her hair down because she knew Jamie was fond of it. 

“You look fantastic, LJ. You’ll knock him right off of those Scottish feet of his,” Joe grinned, giving her a once over. “If I hadn’t proposed to Gail this year, then I might just be asking you.” 

She chuckled and blushed at his kind comment and then walked out the door. 

On the car ride over to the hotel, Claire’s nerves were everywhere. Her knees were knocking together and she felt a light sweat break out on her forehead. 

“He’ll be here, Claire. The way he looked at you,” he whistled loudly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he got there at six a.m. this morning!” 

She shoved his arm, “Oh stop, he wouldn’t!” But she thought he might just have done that very thing. 

When they arrived at the hotel, Claire took two steps towards the door and then froze. 

“What is it?” Joe asked, holding her arm and looked into her eyes to see if she was okay. 

“What if he’s found someone else?” Claire panicked. “What if he _is_ here tonight, but only to tell me that he moved on with his life and that he couldn’t wait.” 

“There’s only one way to find out,” Joe offered her his arm and she looked down at it, pausing a beat before accepting it. 

The entire ride up to the top floor, she stared at her feet. If everything worked out, then she would leave here the happiest woman alive, but if things didn’t work out…

As the doors opened, Joe gave her arm a reassuring squeeze and together they walked into the huge room. Last year it had been decorated in a 20’s theme and this year everything was black and white. 

Including everyone’s outfits. 

“Joe!” Claire gasped as she realized that she was the only one dressed in color. “Did you know this was a white and black party?”

Her friend started laughing next to her, “I did.” She swatted at his arm, “But I wanted to make sure your man found you.” 

“I’ll stick out like a sore thumb,” she pressed her hand to her forehead and then looked down at her dress. “Christ, I’m in bloody red for crying out loud!” 

“Calm down, LJ. Let’s get you a drink and maybe you’ll forget all about it,” he laughed again and Claire reluctantly followed after him, avoiding meeting anyone’s eye as they moved through the crowd. 

They had arrived around ten p.m. and Claire wasn’t sure if she should go in search for Jamie or let him find her. 

An hour later, she finished her third drink, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“He’s not here,” Claire said. 

Joe had left her thirty minutes ago to dance and had just come back to her, still at the bar. “Well if you’re just going to stand at the bar all night, maybe he _won’t_ find you.” He gave her a look and she stared back, “Go and find him, LJ.” 

“Where do I even look?” She asked but as she finished her question, she knew just where to go. “I’ll see you later, Joe,” Claire gave him a quick hug and then made her way through the crowd and to the elevator. 

The few seconds it took to ride up to the rooftop was pure agony. And then the doors opened. 

Jamie stood there in the middle of the glass box. Twinkling lights shined above him and Claire’s heart nearly stopped as she noticed the hundreds of red rose petals scattered all around the floor. He must have been standing here all night. 

Her heels clicked against the ground as she approached him and he looked up and his face lit up like the sun. 

“Jamie Fraser,” Claire smiled as she came to stand before him. 

“Claire Beauchamp,” Jamie smiled equally as big. 

“How long have you been up here?” 

“Two hours,” he admitted and Claire laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. 

“I’m so sorry! I was waiting downstairs by the bar,” she laid her hand lightly on his arm. “It only just occurred to me to come looking for you up here.” 

“Well I got here about four hours ago to set all this up,” Jamie gestured to the flowers around them. “I wanted to make it perfect. We waited a year after all,” he smirked. 

“Yes,” Claire grinned and took a step closer to him until their bodies were touching, “We did.” 

They both stood there quietly, looking up into each others eyes, unsure what the next step was. Now that the moment they had been waiting for was here, they both felt a little awkward. 

“How have you been?” Claire asked. 

Jamie smirked and then slid his hands to cup her cheeks, “Just kiss me, Sassenach.” 

She let out a squeak as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers and her body melted against his. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she parted his mouth with her tongue, softly moaning against his mouth. 

Jamie slid his hands through her curls and whispered, “ _Mo nighean donn_.” 

“You told me you would tell me what that meant,” Claire grinned, feeling a little light headed. 

Stroking a curl between his fingers, Jamie pulled lightly on it, “It means my brown haired lass.” 

“Rather a dull color brown, I’ve always thought,” she pulled on a curl. 

“Nah,” Jamie smiled softly. “Not dull at all, it’s like the water in a burn… the way it ruffles down the rocks. Dark, wi’ wee spots of auburn.” 

Claire’s breath hitched as his hand traveled from the bottom of her curl to her shoulder, resting gently against her heart. 

“And what was the other thing you said?”

Jamie grinned and slid his arm around her waist, “Tha gaol agam ort.” 

She stood on her toes, placing both her hands on his shoulders, “And what does that mean?”

Time stopped as he looked into her eyes and it was as if the past year of their lives hadn’t even happened. They were the same people that stood in this very spot, the same people that had held each other, seeking comfort and connection. 

Tears filled Jamie’s eyes and he looked down at her and said, “It means I love you, Claire.” 

She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and kissed him before finally saying, “I love you too, Jamie.” 


End file.
